


And I Try My Best To Not Get Attached

by Iammissingautumn



Category: The Centricide (Webseries)
Genre: (they just dont have the & for this relationship), Gen, Nazi is an asshole, but also. anything works ;), contemplate each others existence and their opinions, forgot to add: no beta we die like men, hair dying, they insult each other and get frustrated its a living, this can deffo be read as platonic, two extremists sit in a bathroom what will they do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28862259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iammissingautumn/pseuds/Iammissingautumn
Summary: Nazi finds Ancom trying to dye quis hair. Nazi helps quem out.
Relationships: Anarcho-Communism/White Identitarian | Nazi (Centricde), opposite unity - Relationship
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	And I Try My Best To Not Get Attached

**Author's Note:**

> Watched 3/3 and had brainrot and this is the love child of that. Probably terrible that this is what I took away from the finale but ya know. Here I am.

There was a firm knock at the door, stopping Ancom in quis place.  _ Fuck.  _ This was not what qui wanted. Qui wanted this simple and easy, but this turned out to quickly be anything but that.

"Ancom, what are you doing?" There was insult laced into the easily identifiable Nazi, as if he would even know what stupid thing he was doing right now. 

"Uh… N-nothing?"

"Than I'm coming in."

  
"Wait!" 

Nazi opened the door anyway. Face contorting into quiet confusion to a look of disgust and Ancom felt immensely stupid. Qui really should have locked that door. 

Ancom was in the bathroom, only in a tank top, with hair dye on the counter, the mixture sitting in a small bowl and all across quis hands, some drops on quems skin as well. There were no towels, no instructions, nor any gloves. 

"You're gonna stain the whole god damn place, what are you doing?" Nazi asked, turning on the fan so that the fumes went  _ somewhere _ other than stewing in the smaller sized room. 

There was no response.

"Are you this fucking stupid, degenerate?" Nazi stepped out of the room, opening a closet by the bathroom and taking out an older towel Nazi kept for these kinds of messes. "Stand back."

Ancom moved against the wall, hands on quis head as qui attempted to not get it anywhere. Qui looked for anything to say, any question, or even just an inkling of an idea of whatever was specifically doing. But qui just… stood there, watching as Nazi took over the scene.

Nazi moved the stuff on the counter, wiping at spots that had dye directly on the counter and then laying it on the ground in case of any more spills. 

"Have you ever even done this before?" Nazi asked, taking a step back and looking to Ancom. 

"Technically? Yes. But also technically no."

"Than just say no, you fucking dimwit." Nazi shoot his head, reaching over and shutting the toilet lid. "Sit down."

"What?! Why!" 

"Just fucking do it, either I do it or you're gonna end up ruining this bathroom and embarrassing yourself because your whole scalp is so stained. But god maybe at this point you deserve humiliation."

Ancom paused for a moment, the ending comment making quem pause, before following the order. Sitting so quis back faced Nazi. Qui decided to trust him at the moment, they had been housemates for a while now and hadn't killed each other and had previously existed in silence exclusively around each other. Ancom was only wildly uncomfortable. Really qui had been avoiding thinking about quis body too much, even though qui was surprisingly mostly fine in the tank top, but that was before someone else saw quem. And now qui just felt… vaguely insecure. But there was nothing to really do but sit straight and hope Nazi actually knew what he was doing. 

Ancom glanced at him as he left the room, and idly watching him as he put on gloves. The way his jaw moved as he focused, his hand in the glove. Sometimes Ancom swore he could be some sadistic doctor. Jekyll and Hyde shit. 

"How do you know how to do this?" Ancom asked, scratching at a bit of quis skin that had dye fall on it. 

"What do you think?"

"Uh… so what? You've got black roots?" 

"Brown."

"Oh….. cool."

"Yeah."   
  


There's a silence that runs over them, and Ancom finds quemself losing quis footing in the conversation. Noticing how it feels a bit easier to breathe with the fan on. And then Nazi's hands are in quis hair.

~

When others dyed quis hair it felt like a rather intimate affair. Qui was allowing someone to control how quis hair would look for the next however long. Handing power off to someone to do the job qui wasn't. The ones who did quis hair were mostly softer, there was plenty of questions.

"How does it feel?" "Can you move your head this way?" "Do you want me to just touch up the roots or the whole thing?" "Ya know I have some red somewhere if you wanted to switch stuff up or a mix, just say the word."

A lot of communication. Always a gage. It was caring, a glimpse into how qui wanted everyone to live. Respect and care thrived through those interactions, and Ancom could feel it through every touch, every word. It was openness and trust. Intimacy. 

~

"You should keep the fan on when you do these types of things. Dead God knows how fucked up your lungs are by now. You don't need to compromise yourself any more than you already have." Nazi seemed to have started at the back of quis head.

"You know this really isn't that complicated, and if you struggle this much with getting to the back of your head then maybe you should get a mirror for this type of thing. It's literally just putting the application on to your head. Almost like using shampoo. Except you need gloves and can't make a total mess. So maybe that's why--" Nazi scoffs, retreating his hands from quis head. "Nevermind."

"Just be careful. I do not need to be the person cleaning up after you because you never learned how to dye your hair. What? Did you go out and get it done at some salon?"   
  


"No. I usually had an anarchist do it." Ancom's jaw clenched not wanting to give the asshole any more ammo on quis friends. But Nazi fell quiet at that, instead, just humming a response. 

Ancom had expected something, anything in which Nazi would prod or poke or say something mean. But he went quiet. Which was… odd. But it was nicest qui'd seen him be so he wasn't going to poke. 

"Move your head left… No, your other left, stupid." Nazi groaned and for a moment Ancom thought he was going to hurt quem but instead, he just grabbed Ancom's chin and roughly moved it to the side. Touch lingering for a moment before moving quem just a touch more before retracting his hand entirely.

"I didn't want to fucking touch you, I have dye on my hands yet it's like you want to make a mess and have marks. I--" Nazi sounded as if he was about to start up again but stopped, tending now to the side of quis head. 

This felt just as intimate as any other time Ancom had someone dye quis hair except, it felt wrong. Which qui blamed on Nazi. Their relationship was basically nonexistent, and it was strange to give over so much to him for barely any reason other than he told quem to listen. 

That didn't ruin the experience. Just because it wasn't soft didn't mean it ruined the moment, it was just different. It wasn't respect, communication, patience, and trust. It was merciless, one-sided, intolerant, and weirdly careful. Still intimate. 

"That stuff can just come off in the shower though, right?" Ancom asked, looking at a larger splotch on the side of quis arm.

"Well… it depends. I mean it should mostly come off but a lot of stuff on the head usually stays as a light imprint at the least. It stains the hands a lot as well." Nazi told, his voice lowering as he pushed quis head a bit closer to his so he could see. Though it wasn't like he was much taller than quem. "I can only do so much to stop you from making yourself look like a clown in public."

"It stains regular stuff pretty bad, but that's exaggerated if bleach is involved. Either way, it usually gets on your shirt when you take it off so hope you aren't too attached to this thing." Nazi told, pulling on the collar, in return staining where his fingers touched dark. "I thought you dyed your hair before? Shouldn't know you?"

"Well usually it was done pretty quickly and we never made any messes," Ancom told, closing quis eyes as qui fell into the simple motions of just… sitting there. Allowing Nazi to handle quem as he pleased, leaning into his touch. It was docile enough, and he seemed to be hesitating when moving quis head now. 

"So why do you dye your hair?"

"Is that even a question? I swear… I wasn't born correctly genetically so it's best if I correct my parents' mistakes. Show the people what the peak of a human should look like." Nazi told, any grip he had got tighter after the inquiry. It was probably one qui shouldn't have asked, as if qui needed another reason to get made fun of.

Ancom let out a chuckle, "Oh maybe we should switch hair then. Get transhumanist to help us out or something."

"I do  _ not  _ want your filthy hair. You barely shower as it is, you've destroyed it so often with this dye,  _ and _ your gene pool must be tremendously muddled in order for you to be as inept as you have turned out. That's probably how you always are."

"You're such a dick. Let me make one fucking joke while we're not killing each other without deciding I'm equal to shit, asshole."

Nazi pulled away for a moment, and when there's not any movement for a few seconds Ancom is about to turn around and open quis mouth again, but Nazi goes back to it. Silent for awhile.

"Yeah, okay."

Every alarm bell in Ancom's head was going  _ off. _ Qui had never heard him admit defeat, and this wasn't that explicitly nor was it an apology but it was  _ something _ . Something that said he was stepping back. Being… nicer. Kind of. That almost hesitance… it was almost a truce. Almost vulnerability, being able to admit or accept you're wrong even though it was in silence. 

  
  


After a few minutes, Nazi finished, going all over quis head twice over to make sure it was done right. "So, now it's just waiting, I'll set a timer on my phone for when it's supposed to be done," Nazi told, stepping back and taking the gloves off.

"Got it. Thank you."

There's a small silence that falls over them as Ancom turns in quis seat. It was a strange thing to come out with. To say thank you to quis political opposite. Everything qui was supposed to stand against, yet, when they actually moved together it worked out. Though Ancom couldn't help but wonder if this was the only time they'd get where it would be like this. It wasn't like the house was that domestic so situations like this weren't going to be common. But Ancom didn't want it to end, qui liked having hope in him.

"Yeah… you're welcome." Nazi throws the gloves in the trash, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, a few feet away from quem. Setting up the timer on his phone. They sit, not exactly looking at each other or speaking for a few minutes. But no one makes a move to leave. Their area a few moments Ancom is sure Nazi will get up and walk off but… he doesn't. And when qui looks over to him, qui meets his eyes.

"What color are your eyes?"

"Blue." 

Ancom hesitated. His eyes definitely aren't blue. "They look brown." 

There seems to be something that passes over Nazi. His eyes widen for a moment and he sees to tense up. But then he plays it off. "Bathroom doesn't have the best lighting." 

Ancom nodded. Nazi seemed to put on a costume. Dye his hair, change his eyes. Be something he's not. His edge felt gone without all of it, he didn't even have his hat nor his usual get up like he had been sanded away at and now he was just being as he usually was.

"Why did you decide to help me, Nazi?" Ancom asked after a moment, doubting it would end in anything honest. Though it suddenly occurred to Ancom that maybe none of what Nazi did was honest. Maybe he didn't even believe in himself in the first place.

"You make messes. It's what you do. Now I do my best to keep this room of the house as orderly as I'd keep my own and you messing things up would ruin that. I wasn't going to let that happen. It doesn't help that we don't need you looking worse than you already do. So if I had to do another thing because you're incompetent then I'd do it."

Ancom let quemself see past the surface words. There probably wasn't a ton of reason to think that Nazi cared in any capacity, and maybe qui was just reading too much into things or making things up. But the words had lost their bite from earlier in the night and qui couldn't help but feel right about it. Somewhere in his heart, there was someone who could be nice to people, though Ancom could do the same so it shouldn't be a surprise. It was just easy to demonize those who wanted to kill quem. Though qui wanted to kill him too, so their feelings were probably even on that front. 

They went back and forth a bit more. Not landing on one topic but finding themselves in the weird in between. In order to do the centricide they needed to be docile, so this was a good enough first step. They would be civil enough till the end and then the better one would kill each other. 

As long as they didn't grow a soft spot for each other, or anyone there. Not doing that was one of those goals. Though moments like these made even the impossible seem rather easy to reach. Neither of them was sure they wanted to be there. But now, it seemed on the table.


End file.
